


A Snowball's Chance

by morrezela



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Bottom Reaper | Gabriel Reyes, First Time, Implied Switching, M/M, Snowball Fight, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 18:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9397226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: Jack asks Gabe the wrong question during the First Annual Overwatch Snowball Fight Championship. It leads to some confessions that Jack is 100% certain he already made years ago.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm posting this for Reaper 76 Week 2017's "On Holiday" prompt. Most of it takes place in Jack's hotel room, but who can blame him?
> 
> All mistakes you find are my own.

He means to say, “Get off me!” when Gabe pins him to the ground. It’s a dirty move. Jack won the First Annual Overwatch Snowball Fight Championship for the Blue Team fair and square. He shouldn’t be pinned in the snow right now just because Gabe is a sore loser.

What comes out is, “Get me off.” Even to his own ears it sounds breathless, dirty, and a little bossy. He can only imagine what it sounds like to Gabe based on how huge Gabe’s eyes have gotten and how his mouth is gaping a little.

But even though he should, Jack doesn’t correct himself. He doesn’t blush or stammer about saying things he doesn’t mean. He doesn’t speak for so long that awkwardness sets in. 

Thankfully, they’re swarmed by their teammates before either of them can form words. A victory celebration awaits. Jack loses sight of Gabe during the ensuing revelry, and he thinks it’s probably for the best. 

When the night gets old enough to technically be morning, he excuses himself from the party. Tipsy footsteps guide him back to his room. His mind is whirling with thoughts of a shower and maybe indulging in an hour of mindless television for once. “Fuck paperwork!” he giggles giddily to himself. 

Jack isn’t expecting to see his former best friend and current second in command sitting on the edge of his bed when he swings his hotel room door open. Gabe doesn’t look like he just spent the night partying. If anything, he looks tenser than when they arrived at the lodge for their ‘team building’ exercises.

“You meant it,” Gabe states. 

Jack is either not sober enough or not drunk enough to deal with this. Gabe and his tendency to make questions into statements is infuriating at the best of times. Conversations with him are always minefields. The amount of alcohol in Jack’s system guarantees he will step on several of those mines, but be sober enough to care about doing that.

“Can we do this later?” Jack finds himself asking. “Maybe in my office? You like fighting there.” 

“I… what?” Gabe’s face finally shifts expressions. “Are you drunk?” 

“Not drunk enough,” Jack whines as he moves to sit beside Gabe. His ass misses the edge of the bed and he slumps onto the floor instead. He knows he probably should make another attempt at sitting properly, but fuck propriety. He’s not the one breaking into somebody else’s room. 

Gabe isn’t saying anything. Jack should spur the conversation along if he wants any hope of sleeping. “The ceiling in here is nice,” is the best he can come up with. The rest of his brain is stuck on a loop of trying to calculate how much whiskey he drank. 

A sound that he hasn’t heard in what feels like years echoes in the room. Gabe has a nice laugh. It’s like bells, but deep bells. The mellow kind. The kind that if they reverberated just right would give Jack a nice erection.

“Morrison, how the fuck did you manage to get shit faced drunk?” Gabe asks as he drags Jack up onto the bed. Jack just kind of goes with it. He doesn’t have the will to struggle against the tight grip dragging him when he’s trying to think up a witty comeback. 

“Lots and lots of whiskey,” Jack informs him. “You should try it.” It’s not his best reply, but it’ll do. 

“I’ll keep your advice in mind for the next time you ask me to get you off,” Gabe says. There’s an aura of amusement still clinging to him when he adds, “But I’d still like to know why you asked me to do that.”

Jack groans and puts his hands over his face. “Come on, Gabe. You know why. Can’t we just go back to how you always ignore me, and I always pretend I don’t look at your ass?”

“I’m sorry, I do what now?” 

“You know, that whole thing where you ignore my pathetic crush, and it doesn’t affect our growing hatred of each other,” Jack says impatiently. 

“So you actually want me to get you off,” Gabe sounds like he’s just getting with the program. It’s a little annoying.

Jack pulls his hands off his face so he can properly glower. “No. I stare at your ass because I’m trying to imagine how much I’d save in uniform costs if I hired somebody without the world’s best butt.”

There is a lot of blinking that starts happening with Gabriel’s eyes. What looks like aborted sentences form on his lips. “How long has this been going on?” he croaks.

Jack rolls his eyes. “I don’t have time for you to be clueless, Reyes. Get out of my room.”

Miraculously, Gabe leaves. It’s probably the shock at getting and order in the middle of an argument. Jack would count that as a win if he wasn’t asleep by the time the door closed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack is still drying off from his shower when there’s a knock at his hotel room door the next morning. He’s wearing an old shirt and an older pair of boxers, but Gabe has seen him in worse conditions. And there is no doubt in his mind that it’s Reyes come to finish their ‘discussion’ from the night before. The fucker is persistent like that.

“Thanks for not breaking in this time,” Jack says by way of greeting. 

“How are you not hungover?” is what Gabe says back. It is an old complaint of his that predates them joining the SEP. Jack never gets hangovers; Gabe gets them from having a glass of wine at dinner.

“I’ve always told you that you don’t hydrate well enough,” Jack replies. 

“And I always wondered why you played mother hen over it. Apparently it’s because you want to fuck me.”

Good old Gabe. Never met a delicate conversation he didn’t want to swing a sledgehammer at. Jack wonders what it says about him that he’s hot for that. 

“Yeah. That’s been blindingly obvious for years,” Jack acerbically replies.

“It isn’t obvious, Morrison. I would know. I head up a Black Ops division. I know the difference between obvious and sneaky,” Gabe argues back. There’s a bit of accusing finger pointing that goes along with his words. 

Jack wants to bite that finger, but in lieu of that says, “I told you that I was in love with you! How is that sneaky?” 

“You did not!” 

Jack feels his face flush as his hard earned calm starts to slip away from him. “I told you that I loved you, and you went off to date fucking Archie Baldwin for six months.” It’s not that he’s bitter about it. Okay he is. He’s a lot better looking than Archie. He’s also smarter, more accomplished, and doesn’t have the personality of a pissed off slug. Also, he’s pretty sure his dick is bigger. 

“Wait. Hold on. That whole love sonnet was you?” Confusion fills Gabe’s voice.

“Who did you fucking think wrote that for your dramatic ass?” Jack snaps. The look on Gabe’s face makes his stomach sink. “Don’t say Archie.”

“In my defense, you’re straight,” Gabe says with an edge of desperation that he rarely has. Gabe doesn’t do fear. It gets in the way of his plans. 

“Straight? Gabriel, what straight man wears shirts two sizes too small for over a decade because his male roommate told him he had nice abs?” Jack might feel a bit hysterical. “For that matter, who in their right mind thinks Archie Baldwin knows what a sonnet is let alone knows how to write one?”

“I was injured!”

“You weren’t brain dead!” 

“You and Archie sound a lot alike when a man has temporary hearing loss!” 

The headache that didn’t come with a morning hangover is trying to set up residence in Jack’s temples. “So, let me get this straight. I spent two months writing you a sonnet. I hired an English professor with a Ph.D. to edit it. I sat by your convalescing form for eight days after reading it to you, and you never once even thought that maybe you just perhaps had the wrong guy?”

“Well, when you put it that way, it does sound a little ridiculous,” Gabe admits. “But why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“When you confess your deepest feelings for someone and he responds by running out to date the first warm body he comes across, you don’t bring the subject up again.”

For the first time ever, Gabe looks sheepish. “If it makes you feel any better, your sonnet was worth six months of giving him second chances.”

“It really doesn’t.”

“Okay. Well. Do you still want me to get you off?” 

“Gabe…”

“I mean, you did proposition me yesterday. And you’ve admitted to still looking even though Archie was years ago. So obviously you’re still into me,” Gabe reasons with a smug look that says he thinks he has won the upper hand in their conversation.

Jack sighs. He does a lot of that whenever he has to talk to Gabe these days.

Gabe seems to take that as a reply because he continues with, “I’m just saying that we could, you know, bury the hatchet. I give up hating you over the promotion. You give up hating me for attributing your hard work and affections to Archie Baldwin.” The words sound like any other of Gabe’s plans. If Jack closes his eyes, he can practically see the bullet points that would come with a written version of it.

“Just like that you’re going to decide, ‘Oh hey! I guess I’ll give up my cold war!’?” Jack can’t help the way his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“You sound like you don’t believe me.”

“You’re right. I don’t,” Jack admits. 

This time it’s Gabe’s turn to sigh as he shifts his weight. “It would also get me off the hook with Ana.”

Jack arches an unimpressed eyebrow. “Really.”

“I may also, maybe, look at your ass too,” Gabriel admits.

A second eyebrow joins the first. “Really.”

“Look, I don’t judge you for liking licorice, do I? So you can’t judge me for my personal tastes,” Gabe huffs.

“First of all, you bring up my love for licorice all the time. Second of all, really?” the third “really” sounds a bit more hopeful than Jack would have liked it to, but it can’t be helped.

“Well, it’s not the, ‘world’s best butt,’ as you put it, but we can’t all be so anatomically gifted,” Gabe smirks. He’s slowly advancing on Jack now because Gabe has a sixth sense for knowing when he’s gotten the upper hand. 

“Buuuuuut, I like tight, cute behinds. They fit good in my hands,” he purrs just as Jack’s back hits the nearest wall. It’s been a long, long time since Gabe has managed to wrong foot him like that. Giving Gabe an inch is literally like giving him a proverbial mile. It’s what makes him good at his job.

“That’s embarrassing. Do you always dirty talk like that?” Jack challenges. Gabe might be good at his job, but Jack’s always been good at knocking him down a peg or two. In some ways, it’s always been war between them. It’s just the friendliness levels of their rivalry that changes. They counter each other in too many ways, but together they’re unstoppable. 

Gabe’s good at seeing weaknesses; Jack’s good at making them. The instant he sees a hint of uncertainty in Gabriel’s eyes, he pounces. In a split second, he’s reversed their positions. Now Gabe is the one backed into the wall. Not that he seems too disappointed about it.

“Boy Scout hasn’t forgotten how to play dirty after all, has he?” Gabe asks in a way that has Jack’s dick taking interest. The situation is spinning out of control. 

Gabe’s right thigh is between his legs, and his left one is between Gabe’s. Jack is hard, and that has to be showing through the thinned out, ratty material of his boxers. He’s only saved from utter mortification by the fact that Gabe’s dick is just as hard and possibly grinding against his leg. 

Words want to tumble past Jack’s lips, but he refuses to let them out. Now is not the time for the declaration of affections. So he presses his lips against Gabriel’s, action forcing his voice to be silent. Gabe’s lips are as soft as he always imagined them to be, and more demanding than he ever let himself fantasize about. 

Jack isn’t really surprised that Gabe is aggressive with his kisses. He’s known him too long and seen him in too many situations to expect him to be gentle about it. What is surprising is the way Gabe’s hands skate over his sides. Their touch is almost hesitant, almost careful. 

Reluctantly, Jack breaks their kiss. Gabe’s eyes a dilated when he looks in them. “Are you okay?” he asks softly. He’s close enough to see just how deeply Gabriel’s brow creases in confusion before he responds with, “Fine, why?”

A flush crawls over Jacks’ skin. There’s no right way to say, “I always thought you’d be forceful if this happened,” so he’s not going to say it because there’s a good chance Gabe will take it the wrong way. Gabriel has always pushed at him. Sometimes with good intentions, other times because of anger. That his touch is gentle is something of a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. 

“It was stupid. Forget it,” Jack opts to say instead, leaning back in for another kiss.

But Gabe’s reflexes, though doomed to be forever slower than Jack’s, allow him to tilt his head so that Jack’s lips find themselves brushing against stubbled skin instead. Distantly, Jack realizes that Gabe hasn’t shaved out his beard like he normally does. Even in the field, Gabe’s shaving routine has always been impeccable. It is part of his “Sanity Routine” something he clings to even when the world is going to shit around him.

Major events are the only things that part him from his shaving kit. Some part of Jack is thrilled that his little confession has ranked so high on Gabe’s importance meter. 

“Jack,” Gabe says his name like it’s something precious, “tell me.”

If there is one blessing that talking to the media day in and day out provides, it’s the ability to lie convincingly. “I don’t have stuff,” he mumbles in a way that he hopes passes for embarrassed. The faint blush Jack feels crawl over his face is in response to knowing that he’s lying, but he can feel Gabe buying that lie with the way his muscles bunch when he laughs.

“I guess I might have to rethink that ‘Boy Scout’ nickname,” he muses. “How can you not at least have condoms with you?”

“I wasn’t expecting to have sex on a team bonding trip,” Jack defends himself. That’s true. He rarely has condoms with him. There’s no point in having them because his sex life revolves solely around masturbation these days. Too many people want to bed him for political or other reasons not in any way related to actual affection, and Jack has always been one to fall in love too easily and stay in love for too long.

Case in point, his ever burning passion for the man he is currently plastered against. 

“Mmm, well I guess it’s a good thing the gift shop in this place is fully stocked,” Gabe muses as his hands slip under the waistband of Jack’s underwear. “I might have slipped down there this morning because one of us knows how to plan in advance.”

Jack might be offended by the insinuation that he doesn’t plan anything if Gabe’s hands weren’t grabbing onto his ass in what could only be a proprietary manner. His blood is making a desperate attempt to rush south and make his dick harder than it already is. There’s a distinct possibility that he is going to nut off if he doesn’t put some space between them.

The thought gives him enough clarity to try untangling himself from Gabe’s grip, but is efforts are met with a growl. Gabe’s fingers dig in as he pulls Jack closer than they had been. 

“Gabe,” he gasps, unsure of what he wants to say. It’s not like he wants to stop what they’re doing.

“I’m not done with this yet,” Gabe answers as he pushes Jack’s boxers off. The motion tugs Gabe’s sweatpants off his waist and onto his hips. It’s the final catalyst Jack’s brain needs to all but rip off Gabe’s clothing and get him on the bed. Jack’s shirt somehow disappears as well, but he doesn’t know which of them took it off.

What he does know is that he’s straddling Gabe’s waist, Gabe’s dick is pressing up against some sensitive body parts, and Gabe’s hands are on his ass again. Jack is trying to figure out just which position he wants to get fucked in when Gabe’s hand starts stroking his cock.

The surprise must show on his face because Gabe is laughing again and asking, “Are you always this distracted during sex?”

Jack wants to reply, but his brain is slowly going offline. It’s been a very long time since he’s had somebody else in his bed. His body is doing its best to make his only thought about orgasming, and it’s winning the fight. His hips are pushing mindlessly into Gabe’s hand, thrusting without much thought. 

“You should fuck me with this,” Gabe comments as he swipes his thumb over Jack’s slit. 

His words don’t register at first because Jack is busy coming on him. A bit of jizz catches on Gabe’s beard. 

“What?” Jack manages to ask after a couple seconds.

Gabe rolls his eyes, but there’s a fondness in them that Jack hasn’t seen in years. “I said you should fuck me,” Gabe reiterates. He doesn’t make a comment about Jack’s stamina or ask about his recovery time. Instead, he nudges Jack off of him. 

The action is performed with those same gentle hands he’d used earlier. Jack is glad that Gabe is busy rummaging around in the pockets of his pants. Not because of the view, though it is nice, but because it means Gabe isn’t looking at Jack’s face. He can’t see the thoughts running through Jack’s mind.

It’s a drastic change in attitude – perhaps too drastic to blame on a simple declaration of love. Not for the first time, Jack wonders what is going through Gabe’s mind. But it’s difficult to think about deeper thoughts when Gabe turns back around. There’s a triumphant sort of look on his face as he waggles the condom packet and tiny bottle of lube he has grasped in his hand.

Jack wants to focus on what Gabe’s face is doing, but he can’t help but let his eyes travel downwards to stare at his cock instead. It’s a nice dick. Long, but not too long and just thick enough to give a good stretch. Jack is almost disappointed that he’s not the one getting fucked.

But, if all goes well, he will hopefully have that opportunity in the future. And, as he said before, Gabe’s ass is really nice. He’s not going to complain about fucking it. 

Gabe pushes the supplies into Jack’s hands before crawling back onto the bed. He settles on his stomach before casting a glance over his shoulder. It isn’t a difficult look to decipher.

Obediently, Jack shifts to his knees and positions himself by Gabe’s thighs. The lube is warm when he spreads it on his fingers, likely the result of being in Gabe’s pocket. He doesn’t give it any time to cool, easily slipping his finger inside of Gabe’s entrance.

The moan that accompanies the slide of his digit has Jack’s dick perking up again. Even though he’s older than he used to be, he hasn’t exactly had troubles getting hard. His previous lovers have commented on his short recovery time before. Of course, it has also been said that he’s a little… more gifted when it comes to thrusting.

As he slips a second finger in, Jack wonders if Gabe has reaped similar benefits from the SEP program. Gabe’s muscles are different. They lack the speed and stamina that Jack’s do. If they don’t, Jack can always work around his more responsive body. He’s done it before, and he’s never loved anyone like he loves the man in front of him.  
He has also never known anyone like he knows Gabe. By the time Jack has a third finger in, Gabe’s moans of appreciation have taken on a hint of impatience. It isn’t a surprise when he says, “Come on, Jack. I’m not made of glass.”

“And you call me impatient,” Jack teases.

“You already got off once. Some of us haven’t,” Gabe grumbles in response.

Jack isn’t about to argue that point. He pulls his fingers free with a wet pop before tearing the condom wrapper open. With practiced motions, he rolls it on before slicking it up with more lube. Gabe pushes up onto his hands and knees. Jack thinks that might be the best invitation he’s ever received.

As such, he wastes no time lining himself up and pushing in. Gabe is impossibly tight inside, and Jack is suddenly grateful that he’s already orgasmed once. They both let out moans as Jack bottoms out, though Gabe’s has a tinge of discomfort in it.

Other people might not catch that hint, but Jack isn’t other people. He’s known Gabriel Reyes for a very long time. He knows how Gabe hides away his pain. He knows the sound he makes when he’s wounded. So even though Gabe doesn’t tell him to, Jack halts his movements to let Gabe get used to his girth.

Instead of thrusting like his body so wants to do, he slides his hands over Gabe’s sides in a soothing motion, mimicking the touches Gabe was giving him earlier. Most of the scars his fingertips find are familiar. He has seen them hundreds of times and even had a hand in stitching some of them up.

“Move,” Gabe grunts after a moment.

Jack obliges him. The slow drag of his cock moving in and out of Gabe’s body tantalizes him. Electric shocks of pleasure nestle in the base of his spine, warning that their encounter will not last long. Armed with this knowledge, Jack does what he does best. He acts.

Even as his hips pick up speed, driving the head of his cock against Gabe’s sweet spot like it’s his personal mission in life, he slips one hand around to grip Gabe’s cock. Wet drops of precome coat his fingers as he tugs on it. 

His efforts are rewarded by a shaky breath and an order. “Harder,” Gabe tells him.

Again, Jack obeys the command. It isn’t the first time he’s had to take orders from Gabe. It probably won’t be the last - if for no other reason than Jack intends to do everything within his power to make sex between them a regular occurrence. Gabe’s always been a little bossy, even when he isn’t commanding troops.

“Fuck, yeah,” is what comes out of Gabe’s mouth as he spills onto Jack’s fingers. Jack continues to stroke him from within and without, milking Gabe’s orgasm for all he’s worth. If it’s because Jack wants to make their encounter memorable, nobody needs to know about that.

Just as the last twitches of orgasm fade from Gabe’s body, Jack feels his surge as he buries himself one last time. He doesn’t take as long to finish, has never been one to have long, extended orgasms. Still, he pulls out of Gabe’s body reluctantly. Part of him wishes he could stay inside him forever. That they would never fight again.

That, though, is nothing but a pipe dream. So he pulls the condom off and disposes of it in the trash can next to the bed. When he tries to stand up however, he is immediately pulled back down in the bed.

“Where are you going?” Gabe asks. He sounds gruff but there is something akin to vulnerability in his voice.

“I was going to get a washcloth,” Jack informs him. “You still have jizz on you from earlier.”

Instead of releasing him to finish his proposed task, Gabe’s arms tighten further. “Don’t worry about that,” he says. “Stay here with me.”

“Okay,” Jack says, trying to resist the urge to ask questions. He isn’t opposed to cuddling after all. Gabe is an adult. If he wants to let come dry on him, it’s not Jack’s place to tell him otherwise. 

The instant he gives up and curls into Gabe’s embrace, fingers find their way into his hair. Gabe’s petting is sure to make him need more hair product than normal, but Jack doesn’t object. For one thing, it feels good. For another, he wants to learn all about post-coital Gabe. 

“For a while,” Gabe says hesitantly, “I thought you used me.”

Jack tries not to stiffen, but he is unsuccessful. He is more successful in curbing the desire of his tongue to speak questions. 

“I thought that you had been riding on my coattails. Following me around, using me for advancement until one day you could pass over me.”

“I’m not that devious,” Jack manages to say in a somewhat light tone.

Gabe snorts. “You are. I don’t think most people think you have it in you, but I do. It’s part of why I stayed in Overwatch. If it wasn’t going to be me in charge, at least I knew you weren’t some incompetent idiot.”

“But?”

“But it still wasn’t me in the Strike-Commander position. It’s not exactly easy to be happy about your best friend being promoted when you think he plotted to stab you in the back for years,” Gabe says.

“I didn’t,” Jack swears. He tries to push up onto his elbow, try to get a good look at Gabe’s face, but Gabe’s fingers hold him in place.

“I lied earlier,” Gabe confesses. “I’ve noticed you looking. I’ve noticed for years. I just… didn’t know why. When you got promoted instead of me, those glances all seemed to make sense. When you kept looking even after you’d won, I thought you didn’t trust me. That you were constantly making sure I was toeing the line.”

Gabe clears his throat. “It messed with my head to both love and hate you at the same time. How could I? Why did I?”

“And now?” Jack asks when Gabe lapses into silence.

“Now I’m going to have to apologize to Ana and figure out how to make that whole Archie thing up to you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jack mumbles. “Let’s just call things even. Dating Archie was probably a punishment in and of itself. It would be cruel to have you make it up to me. Just work on that whole hating thing.”

A kiss gets pressed on the top of Jack’s head. “I will.”


End file.
